


rockin 'em stilettos

by robiland



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Akalynn and Kahri crumbs - Freeform, Alliteration, Alternate Universe - K/DA (League of Legends), Eve being hot idk, Multi, Paparazzi, Press and Tabloids, Scandal, Thongs - Freeform, descriptive writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:49:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29772291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robiland/pseuds/robiland
Summary: Evelynn's looks can kill any old media frenzy.
Relationships: Ahri & Evelynn (League of Legends)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	rockin 'em stilettos

Lemon drop yellow is the perfect colour choice for the occasion. It's a whisper of springtime sunshine bursting out of deep indigo denim. Equally sunny stilettos confirm the exposure to be as intentional an accessory as the silver claw adornments on each finger. Standing still in the mirror, the loose bralette under her cropped jacket remains a secret weapon, considering the surprising amount of bounce the girls give once she starts walking. Going bra _less_ is an option, but Evelynn figures she'll save that for her next casual corner store candid.

Thus begs the question: _Cleavage or no cleavage?_

The siren asks this of Kai'Sa via text message with selfies attached to illustrate the two options. Ever the supportive girlfriend, Kai'Sa has taken it upon herself to run interference on the gumiho situation. Realistically, it's likely that the dancer is _off_ her phone so as to not run into the very matter that requires said interference. Akali would be more likely to respond faster, but Evelynn has found that Akali's skill set is better suited for an ego boost rather than fashion advice. Not that Eve couldn't use some of that, too, but that's what her _earlier_ photos were for.

**Definitely cleavage,** comes Kai'Sa's reply. **Three buttons instead of two though. Hit them from every angle**

Evelynn proudly observes, **You're starting to sound like me**

The even prouder observation happens between Evelynn, the mirror, and her camera - a trio formed in the highest of heavens. She captures what she calls her "stage-setters", a curation of photos she posts before stepping out to generate buzz around what Evelynn is up to next and, most importantly, what she's wearing. Smiles with her eyes and a smidge with her lips, jaw clenched to display her killer bone structure, carefully misplaced strands of lilac hair for a touch of "humanness" in it all. Accompanying these are detail shots of the various luxury logos on her person for her fellow high fashion fiends: red soles on her shoes, double Cs on her shades, a tall letter "T" in an open circle on her purse. Nothing about a bright yellow G string climbing up her back.

Akali's feedback comes quickly, in the form of a direct message. **Radiant. You should send me these photos too, I need a new home screen**

Evelynn opts to reply with a voice message. Barely containing her grin, she sings, "Why not use one I sent you earlier? Those are special - I got dressed up just for you, darling."

**Exactly, can't let anyone else see what's mine**

Eve stares at the message with one of the arms of her sunglasses caught between her teeth. Her racy imagination revs its engine. She taps out that she'll be by in two hours to pick Akali up and that she 'had better be ready' before doing away with the device altogether, lest her attention be accosted by her girlfriend's surprising knack for sexting. (A wordsmith, that one.)

Infinitely more important matters are at hand. Poor Ahri had landed herself in a hotbed of media dissection over some unfortunate leaks from a private party. Even Evelynn has to wonder how Ahri plans to put a graceful spin on chugging from a bottle of hard liquor and face planting so ceremoniously on the club's sticky floor. The criticisms and accusations have been flying since before Ahri had even left the party: Ahri of K/DA is a bad influence, a one-hit wonder drowning her past in shameful vices.

Ahri typically did a better job keeping her name pristine in the press. She had stopped being exciting tabloid fodder a couple of years into her personal hiatus, and every media release up to and around K/DA's debut was clean and carefully schooled. A comeback, however, left her to once again contend with blowing multiple sets of expectations out of the water. Incidentally, Ahri had been 'a little strung out lately' - the Queen's words.

This upsets the years-long balance of Ahri's pristineness existing juxtaposed with Evelynn as her controversial counterpart. It had always been there, but their collaboration required more careful thought about such a dynamic. Evelynn had always believed in her individual prerogative, and always had the star power to back it up _because she's Evelynn._ And Ahri could, too, if she wasn't so concerned with being palatable.

Though that, too, is an essential component of it all. Ahri could always use the extra prop for her own image, if she ever needed it. She could condemn her colleague's poor attitude with her prize-winning PR voice. Start a fake feud between them and plan out her graceful acknowledgement of their differences. Instead, Ahri keeps doing this thing where she doesn't miss a beat before sharing that she admires Evelynn's confidence, and agency, and individuality. Then, Eve buys her a big necklace and throws in and even bigger hug.

All in due time. Eve has a whale tail to debut first.

A one-minute stroll over to her reserved parking spot should be more than sufficient. Hotel parking garages were a recipe for disaster with her custom whips, plus, flexing her signature vehicles so publicly creates just the right swarm of adoring fans and sleazy paps to welcome her. By now, both sets of worshippers have circulated the details on her location amongst and beyond their circles. Nosy stragglers would form moons around the buzzing crowd to find the source of the action. 

Who else could it _possibly_ be? 

Evelynn's finishing touches include fixing her purple platinum tresses to sit behind her shoulders, another flirty coat of pink gloss, and tinted lenses over her eyes. She rolls her shoulders back to make sure her posture is of diva quality, heaves a sigh and smiles warmly at the pretty girl in the glass.

"Let's give them some good news, babe."

In response, something deeper than her skin purrs, growls like an empty belly. Evelynn knows; turning heads and pining eyes are the guilty pleasure sweets among the buffet of sensations on which she feeds. Adoration, idolatry, and all their cousins in fame are hers to claim, branded by the letters E-V-E and sealed with a kiss.

Lashers lay in repose, framing the pièce de résistance of the ensemble. Evelynn steps into her world.

It starts earlier than she anticipated. In the hallway outside of her suite, two men taking a break from their custodial work stop their conversation to gawk openly at the artwork. Small fries, but she tosses them a pair of kisses all the same as a thanks for the appetizer.

It grows in the lobby and so does the sway in her hips. The reactions from wandering tourists and busybody bellboys come in two-fold tides, all around her; splash number one when they see her, wave number two when they see her ass. Some folks aren't so polite as to ogle quietly and offer their wolf whistles, obnoxious shutters and flashes as they capture the moment. On the opposite end of the spectrum, they voice their obvious jealousy in the form of groans about "sluttiness" or whatever they call it. No one has approached her as of yet, but that might be because there's another matter the crowd aims to settle amongst themselves:

_["Who is that?"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N9PL3Iz3xc) _

Nothing that the sea of disciples outside can't illuminate for them.

The young ones make these blood-curdling screams out of her name every time. Tears coat their contorted faces - it must hurt to scream like that. It takes a larger portion of self-control than Evelynn would like to admit to stop herself from mocking them. (She adores her fans, really.) Less charming are the caveman grunts of sleazy photographers to get her attention. They throw in something about how pretty she looks today or bug her about the EP rumors, _blah blah blah._ She's trained her eyes against the flashes of their cameras just as much as their ogling and reaching - it's not like they'll ever touch her, anyway.

Maybe it has something to do with the built-in weaponry on her back, hovering protectively around her and their blades shining in the sunlight like her jewelry does. _Just_ maybe.

Evelynn smiles sweetly, to no one in particular. Another surge of energy bursts from the crowd with a simple wave of her hand. Musicians and their maestro.

Said built-in weaponry is essential given the extra accessory. The moment she sets on her path, the crowd responds with her, forming a border that spills onto the street to accommodate the mass. Eve's smile becomes a smug, self-congratulatory simper that she manipulates back into a toothy grin when the clamor erupts, literally, behind her. If she didn't know better, she would say they were petrified, but that's the kind of thing that sex does to people. For _some_ reason.

"Evelynn, what are you _wearing?_ "

There's an almost insulted tone to the question that amuses Evelynn quite a bit. It's one of many flavours of aggressive approaches that men have, where she makes them feel so threatened by their own response to her that they simply _have_ to get to the bottom of it. She doesn't break her pace, just twirls to make sure the sun catches the highlight on her cheekbones when she says, "First Star from the FOXY Cosmetics Star Guardian palette. Only the finest from our Queen."

Any follow-up questions are drowned out when the crowd returns to its original volume, having quieted to hear what Evelynn had to say. She keeps the sway in her hips strong and rhythmic, in time with her clacking footfalls on the pavement, and keeps them all enthralled by the motion. The thong is surprisingly comfortable, all things considered, though she didn't typically reach for them, or _low-rise jeans_ , for that matter. Ahri had been bugging her to show off her abs more - she should be so lucky as to score a midriff and exposed panties in the same outfit just by eating shit at some party. She would think up appropriate payback for the gumiho in due time.

As her vehicle shows itself on the horizon, a rightfully curious BLADE wants to know what K/DA has in store next. That bitter desperation hits softly on Evelynn's tongue and she feels comforted knowing about the teasers dropping in a few short days. More lovingly than her previous answer, the siren assures, "We've missed you all terribly. I can say you won't be disappointed in the slightest, hon."

The fan is frozen in place by the acknowledgement and is swallowed up by the bustling crowd moving around her. Evelynn is confident to leave it at that for now, to keep things vague and because she's turning into the parking lot for the square blocked off by velvet rope, an attendant at the ready to grant her access. She smoothly locates her set of keys inside her purse, ready to get out of there. Not as ready as the people who have beaten her to her own car, peeking into its tinted windows in vain from a distance. She has to swat a couple of adorers back with sweeping gestures of her hands and jabs of her lashers - where was the security she'd requested? - to get to the poor attendant getting jostled around.

"Thank you _so_ much," Evelynn says to him, and means it. She slides him a healthy tip for the trouble and hopes the cash will make it home with him.

So graciously, Evelynn offers her audience some more poses next to her ride. Generous amounts of over the shoulder smirks and placements of hands on her hips to call attention to her undergarment, in case no one's noticed it yet. Honestly, she's looking forward to seeing the proofs online later - she can confidently say there's some excellent material between all of those cameras. In the process of opening the door to the driver's seat, she picks out a particularly pointed inquiry from a faceless voice in the sea before her.

"Do you think Ahri's washed up?"

Evelynn mulls over the egregious question. She gingerly plucks her shades from her face; white pupils slit instantly against the sunlight and camera flashes. "Far from it. In fact, I'd argue that lurking around, taking pictures of women's panties is the more 'washed up' behavior, wouldn't you agree?"

Evelynn ducks into her seat before she can _actually_ point out who drummed up that accusation and put their name on a list. Satisfied with a job well done, an appearance that is endlessly well curated, Evelynn turns her stereo up to blasting with her fill of screams for the day.

* * *

The moment she reaches the K/DA residence, Ahri swallows Evelynn in a sweeping embrace that threatens to knock both of them off their feet. Mashing her face into Evelynn's shoulder, Ahri whines, "Thank you, Evie."

"Yeah, yeah. Just learn to hold your liquor, okay?" Evelynn kisses Ahri hard on the forehead and pushes past her into the house. She wrinkles her nose. "I _hate_ wearing panties."

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Dua Saleh's "[cat scratch"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcJzy4QZKeE), song selection is Eve's "Who's That Girl?" and I have been itching for the opportunity to link it in an Eve fic. i'm so happy right now lmao
> 
> something light to get the descriptive writing juices flowing and to take the edge off tackling a multi-chaptered beast. you can find me, p., on Twitter [@moiratheestalli](http://twitter.com/moiratheestalli). you can also donate to me on ko-fi @ [ptheauthor](https://ko-fi.com/ptheauthor). everything - every click, read, bit of kudos, follow, etc - means the world.
> 
> see you soon!


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